


Evalach

by OneHundredSuns



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Blood, F/M, Gazelle Backstory, Gazelle Is Trifling, Gazelle POV, Guns, Mind Games, Minor Violence, Obsession, Original Character Death(s), Permanent Injury, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Lust, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 23:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneHundredSuns/pseuds/OneHundredSuns
Summary: “She’s a loaded gun, Eggsy. If Kingsman doesn’t pull the trigger someone else will.”





	Evalach

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this sort of more for myself but then thought I'd share it because a bit more Eggsy/Gazelle in the world couldn't hurt. :) This is sort of a "what if Gazelle hadn't died"... Oh and I borrowed the bad guys from Nikita so don't sue me CW.

Evalach

Waking up is like drowning. It is like pieces of glass in the center of her chest, cutting through her lungs with every breath she attempts to take. It should have been a singularly horrible experience but unfortunately Gazelle is no stranger to breathing tubes and machines forcing air into her lungs. She’d just assumed this time— _this time_ —she’d be done. That no one cared enough to fix what was broken. Which begged the question why _is_ she still alive?

Gasping and writhing and yanking at the tube down her throat, she is vaguely aware of people in white coats rushing into the room and grabbing at her hands. They are pinned to the softness of the mattress and she’s coaxed down with threats of sedation and promises for the tube to be removed _in just a moment_. Fighting would be more in character with her morals but she needs to access the situation. She can already tell her blades are missing.

Still in the time it takes the doctors to keep their promise she’s thought of several ways to escape. Or at least to do some real damage. Remove the iv from her arm, jam it into one of their eyes and strangle the nurse with the ties of her little smock. Use the cord from the heart monitor as a lasso when one tries to run, muscle him down to the railing and break his neck with a single flick of her wrist. Just as she’d been taught to do.

Instead she coughs and accepts the cold water a shaky hand gives her, glares when she’s told _someone will be with her momentarily_ and sighs deeply; phantom toes twitching against the stark white sheets as she’s left alone.

It’s obvious she is not in jail because everything is too clean and there are no handcuffs. She’s not restrained so naturally wherever she is security is probably extremely tight. No doubt she’s being watched much like a mouse in a cage, someone out there wondering what she’ll do. Funny enough she wonders that as well.

Valentine is dead…that much is a given. He’s dead and his insane plan failed, which is just as well since the logistics never made much sense to her. She’d went along with it because she _owed_ him and she didn’t like to be indebted to anyone. And perhaps the world did deserve to burn or at least most of the leeches fucking things up. Murderers, rapists, that asshole drunk driver that had ran a red light and effectively ended her thriving dancing career. All the decent little people that stole from grandma’s medicine cabinet and coveted their neighbor’s wife, they’d all deserved it in one way or another. She’d felt nothing watching them beat each other to a bloody pulp.

In fact the only poetry in violence had been watching that agent decimate an entire church of bigots. Jealously wasn’t something Gazelle felt often but in that moment she’d been practically stewing in it. _Why couldn’t I be slashing with you,_ she’d thought to herself. Valentine was so boring with his squeamishness about blood. If you were going to kill someone looking them in the eye was a common courtesy as far as she was concerned.

Oh well. On to the next adventure she supposes.

She’s alone with her thoughts for quite a while before voices in the hallway pull her back into the here and now. One voice she recognizes a bit from their…dance however long ago but the other is foreign to her. Yet his words make her purpose abruptly clear.

“She’s a loaded gun, Eggsy. If Kingsman doesn’t pull the trigger someone else will.”

The door opens and a tall bald man walks in carrying an electronic clipboard. He looks almost unassuming but she’s learned how to read people. Can tell that underneath his dowdy sweater and starched collar is muscle, strong arms and flat abs. His legs are no doubt toned though shrouded in plain pants they might be. Even his glasses look decorative though she can’t be one hundred percent sure. Either way he carries himself like a man sure of his purpose and it kind of amuses her for whatever reason. Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, hiding in plain sight.

He grabs a chair from the other side of the room and drags it to the foot of the bed, sitting down to stare at her. She stares back; they are like two predators searching for a weakness. By virtue of her being in this bed he has her beat but he’s not stupid enough to underestimate her and she appreciates it. She doesn’t _need_ her legs to kill they just make it easier.

“I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here,” he says slowly, accent Scottish. “No one has ever survived the neurotoxin before. Antidote?”

“Not that I am aware of,” she replies and her voice is like sandpaper to her vocal cords. How long has she been unconscious? “Valentine didn’t give me anything if that is what you are asking.”

He nods. “Considering what you nearly helped him do we gave some serious thought to letting you die in that bunker. The satellite was destroyed but there was still untold damage all around the world. Most of the world leaders are dead and the power vacuums are astronomical. You’re a mass murderer.”

Gazelle arches a dark brow. “Are you here for my confession? Are you a cop or a priest?”

His expression remains blank. “Neither. I’m just telling you why you _should_ be dead. The fact that you managed to live is miraculous and yet it brings up loose ends.”

She sighs. “You want remorse but the girl that could once give it to you doesn’t exist anymore. I played my part in Valentine’s plan with no misconceptions. Once the _Kingsman_ discovered what we were doing it was only a matter of time before one of us died. Isn’t that how it goes in the movies?”

“My name is Merlin…if there are going to be introductions.” He presses his lips together. “I work for Kingsman. You killed a good friend of mine.”

“The man in the olive suit, yes I remember him.” With a grunt she pulls herself up higher in the bed, limbs shaky and weak like a newly born calf. “He died quick if it makes you feel any better.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Naturally.”

Merlin types on his clipboard and on a screen off to the side images pop up. “You’ve probably already guessed that I’ve looked into your background. Valentine didn’t scrub you as clean as originally thought. Your birth name is Olivia Pelletier and you have a family. A family that didn’t take the chips yet were tucked safely away in a bunker in Paris. They’re fine if you were wondering.”

Gazelle blinks once at the faces of her mother, father and little sister. “I wasn’t. So, what do you want from me Mr. Merlin? I’m assuming this is blackmail of some type where you hold the welfare of my family over me unless I play nice.” She gestures to nothing. “Here is what you should know about me. My loyalty can be bought and yes I will do whatever I have to if it means protecting those I love.”

Merlin hums. “It’s just Merlin. Why work for Valentine? Was it just the money?”

 _Why do anything?_ “No. When I was half dead and out of my mind on pain killers Valentine was the only one who saw beyond my so called handicap. The doctors said I would never walk again let alone dance. I lost my legs and needed a kidney transplant all because some dick didn’t give his keys to the bartender and take a cab home. Valentine paid for my recovery and my prosthetics. And my training…” She pauses then thinking about the grueling physical therapy, the tears and nights when she was sure she’d go insane from how hard he was pushing her. “When I was finally ready he revealed his plan to heal the world and since people in general had never done me any favors, I said why not.”

“Valentine’s network was vast and with our organization a bit crippled at the moment, we are having trouble rooting everyone out. But you know who they are, don’t you?” Merlin pushes his glasses back up onto his nose when they slip down. “Would you say they would trust you if you made contact?”

“Perhaps.” She admits honestly. “Unless their heads are confetti, that _could_ be why you can’t find them. Only low level members weren’t chipped and in theory, they’re too dumb to do any damage. But a power vacuum—as you called it—makes lions of the meekest kittens. I could find them for you.”

“I’ll bet you could.” He replies with a hint of bite. “And then try to organize them to do your bidding?”

She laughs. “Why would I want to do that? Revenge? What would be the point? I liked Valentine and I respected him but I have no allusions to what I really was to him. Just another tool to get the job done when he couldn’t. His favorite if I am being generous.” Her hand starts to shake and she frowns down at it, noticing the green tinge to her veins for the first time all the way up to the origin of the now healed wound. It twists up her shoulder and barely brushes her clavicle. “How long have I been here?”

Merlin crosses his legs. “Two months. You’re in Kingsman’s medical ward. We expected you to eventually pass away especially after the cocktail of drugs we introduced into your system to attempt to save you but you didn’t. I’m afraid the green there is permanent. It receded from your left arm and neck but…”

And wasn’t that just perfect? “Alright. Where are my legs?”

Now it’s his turn to arch his eyebrow. “Safe. We can provide you with others for the time being.”

Gazelle smirks at him. “Dull ones?”

He actually cracks a smile. “Of course.” And then it’s back to business. “You won’t be an agent here. Even if I had that authority, and I do for the time being in an unofficial capacity, I wouldn’t put you through the paces to be one. You’re an enemy of Queen and Country—several countries to be exact. But I am not an idiot and it would be stupid to waste the potential you being here could bring.”

Practical; she likes it. “I wasn’t expecting a team sash. Get me on my feet and my services are yours…as long as my family remains safe. And unaware of my existence for the time being. They can know I am alive but nothing more than that.” She makes a loose fist to test her strength. “I have a question for your, Merlin.”

He inclines his head so she continues. “How did you convince your colleagues to let me…participate in this endeavor of yours?”

Merlin’s eyes dart to the door and then back to her. “Kingsman are professionals and they realize you’re a better asset to us than rotting away in a jail cell somewhere. That isn’t to say you won’t _eventually_ end up there however. I suppose it depends on how efficient you are. Though I would offer some advice; don’t antagonize the others. They may get trigger happy.”

Gazelle nods. “I’ll try to be on my best behavior.”

By his expression he’s apparently doubtful she actually will be. “We’ll see. As soon as you are strong enough we will begin to integrate you into our way of doing things. As of right now I am your superior and will be providing the things you need. Your…prosthetics are in a safe place and you will get them back for missions only, at least for the time being. I can’t have you out there putting my agents in danger. I don’t trust you and neither do they. They _will_ terminate you if they feel you pose a danger to them.”

“Okay,” she says easily. “As long as the new prosthetics are similar in fashion I’ll be fine. I’m not here to prove anything to you but I understand stabbing your people in the back won’t be good for my family. See they are taken care of and you can pull my trigger at anyone you please.”

Merlin stands, unfolding from his chair with a rather natural grace. He scrutinizes her quietly for a long minute before simply turning and leaving the room. The door closes with a heavy click and she flops back to the raised bed, exhaling deeply. Her body hurts but she’s alive, she’s a survivor and it’s nice to know that hasn’t changed. Joining Kingsman in any capacity wouldn’t be her first choice but she knows a solid deal when she hears one.

Medical bills had demolished her parents savings and although they’d never blamed her, of course she’d felt responsible. It was _her_ accident and _her_ health care—by the time Valentine showed up she would have done anything to lift the burden from their shoulders. Murdering the world would have turned most people off but her empathy had declined drastically after dealing with insurance companies and lawyers and assholes trying to make a profit. Whenever Valentine had talked about curing Earth of its cancer she’d pictured their faces.

Even now she sort of hoped they were dead.

Slouching and glancing to the bag of medicine on the iv stand, she traces delicate fingers across the minimal cut that ultimately ended and started all of this. At the time she hadn’t even known she’d been cut because it had been _so clean_ with minimal blood loss. The adrenaline in her body had kept her from feeling any pain until it was too late. Until her lungs shut down and she was falling, body on fire as her blood boiled in her veins. She didn’t remember anything after that but she’d known she was dead. And regrettably without any famous last words.

Gazelle had fought _hard_ for Valentine and now she had to decide if she wanted to do the same for Kingsman. If she wanted to throw herself at their enemies and pretend it was such a chore. Honestly any motley crew could have found her; at least this one was well organized and recognized her skills.

Such as they are.

Merlin was right though…she _is_ a loaded gun and someone with a steady had should be handling her. Some random thug would have never been able to control her. She wouldn’t say she _needed_ controlling but she’s also a product of her circumstances and they’ve forever changed her from the happy go lucky dancer she used to be. She can only go forward now.

For the next few hours she is monitored by several nurses and doctors who take her vitals, blood and thankfully remove her unpleasant catheter. She is given a small wheelchair and asked if she needs help getting to the bathroom, to which her reply is _I’m stronger than I look_. In the early days she’d _hated_ the wheelchair and all of the pitying looks that came with it. She would do whatever she had to, to make sure that chair wasn’t her companion for very long.

A pretty nurse gives her a mirror covered in plastic— _just in case_ —when she requests one and she’s happy to see she’s not unrecognizable. Her hair is longer, her once blunt fringe now brushing her cheekbones and she does look a bit gaunt but nothing real food can’t help. Vitamins too.

“How are you feeling?” Asks a brunette doctor. “We’ve worked out a regimen for you to help you get back on your feet. It might take you a while to—”

“It won’t.” Gazelle muses. “We can start tomorrow.” When he tries to protest she gives him the look that has quelled stronger men than he. “We start _tomorrow_.”

There is talk about pushing herself too hard and setbacks but she just shakes her head. She wants to be up and mobile as soon as possible. She wants to prove to herself that she is still a bad ass, and if she has to break and remake herself to do it then so be it.

+

The next four weeks are hell but Gazelle endures. She is given a lovely pair of prosthetics much like the ones she had but without the blades. They are silver and shiny and fit like a glove; making her wonder if she was measured while she was in her coma. She is shaky on them at first as she regains her balance and strength but then it’s just a matter of reminding her body what it can do. The doctors actually seem impressed with her rehabilitation and when she’s not working out she’s given basic access to a computer so that she can do write ups on Valentine’s other associates. The only other person she sees more than Merlin is perhaps Percival who apparently agreed to spar with her. He’s adequate and doesn’t pull his punches which she enjoys, but she finds herself taking it a bit easy on him. He is an…older gentleman after all.

By the fifth week they’ve moved on to weight training.

By the sixth she has her limberness back.

By the seventh she can put Percival on his ass, and has learned three of the major players that have tried to fill Valentine’s shoes are now dead.

It’s not perfect but it’s something.

In all this time she hasn’t been allowed outside once for fear that she’ll try to run away. Even if she did she has nowhere else to go so the point is moot. Any funds Valentine might have left to her are most likely frozen and she doesn’t fancy whoring out her skills to the highest bidder just because.

She’s in the giant gym stretched out on a bouncy blue mat in standard issue Kingsman athletic wear, talking about nothing important with Percival when the door opens and the one who beat her in combat walks in. He looks so impeccably put together; dark pin-stripe suit fitted to the contours of his body as if poured on, dirty blonde hair slicked back and out of his face and thick rimmed dark glasses that she now knows link him to Merlin. He looks much like he did when they faced off the last time except the slight fear in his eyes is gone. There is a deep seated confidence inside of him now, perhaps not about everything but certainty where Kingsman is concerned.

He looks at her as if his eyes are knives and she’s the target. “Percival.”

“Hello Galahad. Back from Cairo already?” Percival rises from his crouch so that they can shake hands.

 _Galahad_ nods. “Just got back in. Thought I’d…finally see how things are going.”

“Quite well. Gazelle’s recovery has been nothing short of miraculous. And her refractory period just gets better and better. I honestly don’t know if it’s her strength of will or the supplements Kingsman is giving her.” Percival chuckles. “But she’ll be mission ready in no time.”

Galahad doesn’t seem to like the sound of that. “You’d go out into the field with her?”

Percival shrugs. “We’re Kingsman agents, we all like to live dangerously otherwise we wouldn’t have taken the job. I reckon she could just as well snap my neck in here as anywhere else. That hasn’t happened, yet.” He taps the side of his glasses. “Ah yes. Be right there, Merlin.”

He squeezes Gazelle’s shoulder and she watches him leave, curling forward at the waist and reaching for the tips of her prosthetics. She wonders if there is about to be a confrontation and if so, who’ll win this time? Galahad’s fancy shoes still boast that blade after all.

“I think Merlin’s mad for having you here.” Galahad says with one hand in his pocket. “After what you done…”

“Your Merlin is a smart man. He knows a good investment when he sees one,” she tells him. “Besides none of us are innocent.”

“Right. But _you_ nearly helped a mad man kill half the world’s population. Nothing innocent about that to me.” He frowns at her. “That whole thing not seem fucking mental to you?”

“It was insane but it also made sense.” She reasoned. “He sold it to me…and to most of the leaders of the free world. As he would say sometimes you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet.”

“Whatever. Me mum almost killed me sister because of his dumb plan. Was she some fucking cancer Valentine went on about?” With a huff he looks to the staffs on the wall. “I killed him you know. With your leg…sword thing.”

Gazelle stands and his free hand twitches inward as if he’s going to reach for his weapon. “I figured that was the case, that you’d killed him anyway. If you’re expecting me to be upset I’m going to disappoint you. Valentine thought he was invincible but he was the only one. If he had succeeded then I guess he would have been heralded as a hero but since he lost he’s the villain. But it’s not that black and white and you know this.”

Galahad snorts. “How so? He wanted to kill everyone. Seems pretty villainous to me.”

 _Well…_ “Why do they call you Eggsy? Is it a nickname?”

He sort of starts at her using his “real” name as if he had no idea she knew it. “Why do they call you Gazelle?”

She grins. “Because I’m fast.” Removing the rubber band from her long black hair, she loops it around her slender wrist. “To answer your earlier question…Valentine cared about the planet. I know that doesn’t make any sense to _you_ but he cared. He saw how polluted the oceans and the air were becoming and he wanted to stop it. He reasoned well these things aren’t hurting themselves. No it’s _people_ doing the brunt of the damage, so if there are less people the planet can began to heal itself. This is what he told Presidents and Kings and Prime Ministers and after thinking about it, they agreed.”

Eggsy snorts again. “Then they were all idiots, yeah? I mean who agrees to be chipped like some dog so that some prick can burn all the people away? And why didn’t you get chipped?”

Valentine had suggested it and she’d flat out refused. Considering how she was his main source of muscle he hadn’t asked a second time. “He trusted me. He knew I wouldn’t back out and need incentive to continue.”

“Why would anyone agree to what he’d suggested?”

“Why did you become a Kingsman?”

“That’s easy, to help save the world and what not.”

“Well that’s why I was helping Valentine. We’re more the same than you think. Kingsman sold you on their lofty goals with promises of intrigue, danger and ultimately doing the right thing. Valentine sold me the same deal except on the other side of things. To him _you_ were the bad guys.”

“We didn’t kill loads of innocent people though, did we?” Eggsy says, smug.

“I don’t know. You demolished a gaggle of world leaders when you exploded their heads, not to mention all of the mercenaries you shot. They had families and friends…loved ones they thought they were protecting by ensuring V Day happened.” His expression falters but she takes no joy in it. “We’re both killers. The sad part is I’d probably understand you more than most. For what it’s worth though you don’t have to feel bad for what you did. It was a fair fight and you won.”

With both hands up she eases around him and heads for the door, stepping out into the pristine white hallway that looks like every other hallway in the building. She needs a shower and food in that order. The metal of her new legs click on the shiny floor and once it took effort not to slip up every time she took a step. Now it’s as natural as breathing. She misses her original ones though.

She is halfway to her room when quick footsteps catch up to her. “Hey! Merlin says you got a family. They why you agreed to help us?”

Gazelle folds her arms over her chest, drawing Eggsy’s attention to the green of her skin. His mouth curls into a delightful little moue and she realizes he’s a bit more tenderr than he lets on, especially if he has any remorse for nearly killing her. “Partly. Valentine was taking care of them and Merlin made me the same deal but with less freedom. I took it because there are no other options for me. It’s either this or no more sunlight for the rest of my life. I like sunlight.”

Eggsy is obviously torn with his emotions where she is concerned. He no doubt probably wants to hate her and now dislikes that she’s more or less human. “I don’t trust you. These people here have become like my family. You hurt them and I’ll take your fucking head off. Behave…and I guess we’ll have no problems. Unless you make a problem.” 

“I can’t promise there won’t be any problems. Valentine’s old _friends_ won’t like me muscling in on their territory. I foresee lots of fighting and stern words in the future.” 

He snickers. “Yeah the ones we took out didn’t go peacefully I can tell you that much. Still some left though. Under the radar and all that. I guess that’s where you come in.”

It certainly is. “Yes. I’m itching to get back at it. I used to detest violence and then after my car accident the world looked different. Twisted metal changed me in more ways than one…”

Big blue eyes squint at her. “Would you go back, if you could? Be Olivia again…”

There was a time when she would have immediately said yes but those days were long gone. Olivia was dead and shouldn’t be disturbed. “It’s way too late for that. I wouldn’t know how to be her and pretending just seems stupid. My mother believes we all become who we are meant to be. If that’s true then I was always meant to lose my legs and become Gazelle, just as you were always meant to be a Kingsman.”

Eggsy grows thoughtful before squaring his shoulders and tugging on the front of his jacket. “I remember how you was there when Harry was shot. Might as well have pulled the fucking trigger yourself.”

 _Hm_. “But I didn’t. The only blood that isn’t on my hands, apparently.”

“One out of a thousand.” He mutters. “I should get going. Still gotta check in with Merlin. Later, I guess.”

Gazelle watches him walk away with a hand on her doorknob, mind drifting back to the force of his foot connecting with her chest. They’d crashed together like rushing meteors and now what were left behind were the dusty pieces. Chips and shards orbiting one another, striking out and grazing each other over and over again until ultimately there is nothing left or they’ve been warped into something new. Something they’ve made together. 

She wants another dance.

Later after she is showered and full and listening to music through huge headphones while relaxing in bed, Merlin shows up with his ever present clipboard in hand. “Eggsy doesn’t know what to make of you. I think he assumed you’d be more like Valentine.”

Clicking pause on her laptop, she tilts her head. “Is that a good thing or bad thing?”

Merlin shrugs. “Both. You’re an undefined quantity and I think he liked it better when you were just—as he put it—the bitch that nearly chopped him in half.”

That makes her laugh. “It was nice to have a real fight for a change. Well until the end of course.”

“I’m sure,” he replies wryly. “In any case there was a name on your current list that I recognized. Ari Tasarov. He was eliminated on V Day but his associate Dimitri Semak appears to have taken control and amassed loyalty in a short amount of time. Taking him out would be nice but with these types of situations, another head would pop up to take his place. I want the entire organization dismantled.”

“Do you want more names?” she inquires. “Valentine had a list though if you turned over his lair you should have it already. The Queen was on it.”

“A list of chipped, yes.” Merlin pinches the bridge of his nose. “But as you explained when we first met, lackeys weren’t worth the plastic. Semak was a lackey and now he’s living like a King of the Russian underground. My people could infiltrate easily but something tells me this calls for a bit more finesse. Do you think you’re ready to make contact?”

“Leave here and go to Russia?” She sits up, clearly interested. “Actually get my hands dirty again?”

A cleft forms between his brows but he nods. “Yes with supervision. You don’t need to spend months cozying up to the right people or a convincing cover; you can simply make contact and waltz into his hideout. Percival will accompany you as a bodyguard—”

“I want Eggsy.” The words are out of her mouth before she can dissect why.

Naturally her request makes him suspicious and she doesn’t blame him. “Why? Why Eggsy?”

 _Why Eggsy indeed?_ “Percival is a wonderful fighter and I’ve enjoyed sparring with him, but I want a hammer. Semak would expect nothing less. _I_ was Valentine’s knife so I’ve got the sharp parts covered.”

Merlin grunts. “Eggsy is more than just a blunt object. He is an exceptional young man with amazing abilities.”

She smiles at him, completely genuine. “I know. We’ve danced. He bested me in a fight which means he’s _good_. If the shit hits the fan and it probably will, I want someone on my level watching my back. No offense to Percival of course.” And she didn’t _need_ anyone watching her back but if she had to have someone… “But if he says no I understand.”

Merlin’s face is passive but his eyes are hard. “We’ll see. In a few days you’ll call Semak and make up some excuse as to why V Day didn’t go as planned. Blame it on MI6 if you wish, that seems just about as plausible as anything. Butter him up a bit and if he takes the bait we’ll send you to Russia as soon as you’re ready. We’ll go over all of the details of the op then.”

“And I’ll get _my_ legs back?” she asks and he nods. “Good. Something familiar. If Semak takes the bait and we meet in person, I’m assuming you want him dead?”

“I want you to make sure he’s not a threat anymore.” He instructs. “The odds of him nicely putting aside his mafia ties isn’t in our favor so…” Trailing off he changes the subject. “I also thought you might want an update on your family. Your sister is back in school and doing very well. And your parents are helping your relatives recover from V Day. Offering assistant with medical bills and helping with medication. They…appear to be under the belief that the money that keeps appearing in their accounts is from you, yet have made no attempt to contact you.”

“Nor would they. Don’t get me wrong they are good people who care about me but they know I can take care of myself. If they are getting an…allowance then I’m alive to give it.” She tucks strands of silky hair behind her ear. “You’ve been very kind to them.”

“So far you’ve been upholding your end of our deal, such as it is. I guess the real test will be Russia.” With those as his parting words he leaves and she removes her headphones from around her neck to lay them on the bed.

Semak had been a small time hustler when she and Valentine had visited Tasarov, all puffed up and posturing with his gun out like he intimidated someone. His eyes had lingered on her in the way some men leer at women they think they can push around, right up until he’d noticed her legs or perhaps lack thereof. Then he’d got that light bulb as if her _handicap_ somehow meant she was less than. She’d been secretly thrilled when Tasarov got smart about being chipped and his goons pulled weapons. Three hands severed at the wrist with a flick of her foot and suddenly everyone was on board.

And Semak was nearly pissing himself in fear.

“It’ll be nice to see him again,” she says aloud nearly giddy.

Tapping her fingers against the side of her head, she closes down the program on her laptop and deftly hacks into the surveillance footage of Valentine’s bunker. It was on its own private network and she’s not sure if Merlin has discovered it yet—though she figures he has—but technically she’s not breaking their agreement. Shouldn’t be a crime to watch something that has already happened, not like she’s trying to reach out to someone on the outside. And surely if he didn’t like her looking he would have stopped her by now.

The video of Eggsy in the tunnels is immaculate as is the way he mows down entire groups of gun wielding guards. He is elegant yet brutal, the bullets bouncing off his suit like beads of rainwater. Surely he must have been bruised afterwards from the impact? Tiny round dots of black and blue spread across his peach colored skin…had he touched them later when he was alone? Pressed down and tried to remember just when they’d happened or forgot about them entirely as simply part of the job?

And he’s so limber; stretching and twisting and flipping but the lines of his coat never so much as scrunch.

In another life they could have wreaked so much havoc together. If he’d been on their side Valentine’s plan would have surely worked. And then they could have disposed of Valentine if they wanted.

But it didn’t do to have such thoughts. Valentine was dead and Eggsy was good. Scooped up by the saints and nurtured on the other side of the coin contrary to her own teachings. Wrecking the world is out but they can still kill people together. People that probably deserve it even more than some fat CEO.

That’ll be fun. He can point her where he wants her and she can be his right hand.

+

It takes a bit of ass kissing which honestly makes Gazelle want to vomit, but Semak does agree to a meeting in the back room of one of the clubs he now owns. He seems dizzy with excitement to show off and to learn why his boss’ head exploded instead of the crowd outside continuing to beat the shit out of each other. She promises it’s a good story, one that will enchant him for days, and mentions coming to see him soon with one of her bodyguards. They lazy _I can’t wait_ signals trouble and she hangs up with the biggest grin on her face.

Merlin is pleased with how the conversation goes. It’s a trap obviously and Semak will no doubt try to murder her but it’s also an in and that is what matters. 

“Not that we’re sending you in blind,” he tells her fifteen minutes later from behind his glass desk. “I took the liberty of making you this.” He slides a rectangular box across to her.

Upon opening it she finds a lovely silver jeweled ear cuff inside, the tip pointed like an elf’s ear. “It’s beautiful.” She takes it out and tries it on, checking out her reflection in the glass.

He nods. “There is a tiny microphone and speaker near the lobe so you’ll be able to hear me and I’ll be able to hear everything that goes on. Just in case you and our agent get separated.”

She smirks. “Is this for my protection or to keep tabs on me? Never mind both works.” She puts it back among the soft dark velvet. “Semak will try to make an example of me for what I did to his buddies back with Valentine. I’m looking forward to seeing him again. He has no respect for women.”

Merlin clasps his hands together in front of him. “Try not to kill him until we have the information that we need.” He pauses. “Are you ready for this, Gazelle? I don’t just mean physically but mentally as well. This could go tits up in a hurry.”

Is she ready? “I have no problems killing if that is what you are asking. And I am under no pretense what will happen to me if I step out of line. I’m on a leash and I know very well who holds it.”

“That’s good.” Merlin murmurs. “Though I do have reservations about this…easy going attitude of yours. I find it hard to believe you’re _that alright_ toeing the new company line.”

“I don’t have any urges to kill any of you and that’s the truth.”

“Okay. Why do you keep watching the footage of Eggsy in Valentine’s compound then?”

“I like it. I like the way he moves.”

“How do I know you’re not studying him so you can kill him later?”

“That would be a waste to be honest. And studying him wouldn’t work—he’s not classically trained like the rest of you so he mixes it up. He’s…unique.”

Merlin blinks at her. “Careful you don’t become fixated on his _uniqueness_.”

Gazelle shrugs glibly. “We’re all fixated on something or another. Work, school, texting—this is not exactly a bad thing.” Tipping forward, she put her elbows on his desk. “It’s better than wanting his head. I might even help him keep it.”

The door to the office opens behind her and she can see Eggsy’s reflection in Merlin’s glasses. “Eggsy…” Merlin sighs deeply through his nose. “Just who we were talking about. Gazelle has made contact with Semak and he’s agreed to a meeting.”

Eggsy comes up to stand beside her chair. “Sounds good then. What’s the plan?”

Merlin hands him a green information packet. “We find out whom he’s been in contact with and if they had any links to Valentine. Then we cut the cord so to speak. Move on to the next.”

Eggsy hums. “Merlin said you want me playing bodyguard. You think that’s smart considering we tried to kill each other?”

 _I think it’s very smart._ “Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”

His brow twitches. “Uh, we try to kill each other. Again.”

She stifles a yawn. “Do you two want to insert something into me that kills me if I even have bad thoughts about the Kingsman? Otherwise I don’t see us getting anything done. I could have slit Valentine’s throat whenever I wanted but I didn’t because of loyalty. Now my loyalty belongs to you.” That last is said to Eggsy and she doesn’t miss the way Merlin’s face goes through a myriad of emotions he tries to contain. “Still if you’re not game then I’ll be happy to have Percival with me. In fact I’m going to be late for our session.”

“Off you go then.” Merlin gestures to the door. “You leave for Russia in a week.”

Gazelle salutes him rather cheekily and brushes Eggsy’s arm with her own when she leaves the room. It’s wrong but she lingers, ear pressed to the door to see if they talk about her. Of course they do. They probably even know she is listening.

“I don’t think you should go with her to Russia, lad.” Merlin says. “I don’t _think_ she’ll turn on you but I’m not sure one on one time with her is a good thing either. She’s becoming rather…enthralled with you.”

“Heh then she can join the club,” Eggsy quips. “First a princess and now an assassin. Wonder what’s next? Should I be concerned if Rox starts looking at me funny?”

“All that aside I’m being serious Eggsy. Gazelle is essentially like a wild animal we’ve managed to subdue for now. She could get a better offer from Semak and turn on you.” Merlin warns. “I don’t feel good about sending her out but necessity dictates it. I’m _hoping_ this actually works and doesn’t blow up in our fucking faces.”

“She had discipline with Valentine. She didn’t kill anyone who he didn’t send her after.” Eggsy replies contemplatively. “Wouldn’t hurt to have a wild thing loyal to a certain master.”

“With all due respect Eggsy I don’t think your hand is…heavy enough for that.”

“Oi what the fuck that’s supposed to mean? Valentine puked at the sight of blood but she helped him.”

Clearly Eggsy would most likely agree to accompany her to Russia because while wary there is still a part of him with something to prove. Lucky for her, she reasons and just imagines the conversations they might have together. The people they might kill together—back to back—wrapped around each other like vines, not knowing whose blood is whose.

It could almost be romantic.

Plenty of love stories started out with gunfire, didn’t they?

Biting her bottom lip, she sprints away from the door since leaving quietly never happens and doesn’t break her stride until she’s inside the gym.

+

The Kingsman jet is large and comfortable with yellowish walls and plush leather seats. Tucked against the right wall is a plaid green couch beside a round drinks table, next to a tiny bar built into the paneling. Right across the carpeted aisle is a square table between two more chairs and an impressive computer system that has _Merlin_ written all over it. Idly Gazelle wonders if there is a bed in the back; it’s big enough for it.

Outside the window is nothing but blue sky and fluffy clouds.

Eggsy is suited and sitting right behind the cockpit, one toned leg thrown over the other. His glasses are tucked safely in his pocket and every once and a while his gaze shifts her way as if he expects her to be doing _something_. In truth she’s a bit antsy, her stomach a bit rumbly. When the jet had risen from underneath its secret hanger had been the first time in a long time since she’d seen daylight. The brightness had actually hurt her eyes and she’d recoiled for a moment, pressing back against the wall until everything felt natural again. Merlin had seen them off and he’d handed her a bottle of pain pills as if he’d known she’d need them.

Now however she is much better except for the nervous excitement. She’s not nervous about meeting Semak but she is anxious about the upcoming fight. Because there _will_ be a fight, she just hopes it goes well. Hopes everything her imagination has conjured up about Eggsy is true.

“Valentine’s jet was much nicer,” she says to break the tension. “More modern. You should think about upgrading.”

“I’ll get right on passing that to Merlin,” Eggsy replies, eyes out the window. “Were you two fucking?”

His question startles a laugh out of her. “We did fuck once but he found me too…eager. His words, not mine. After that our bond was more emotional.”

Eggsy frowns and finally looks at her. “Too eager? What the fuck does that mean? You got off to quickly or something?”

She shakes her head. “He didn’t like that the violence tended to be a prerequisite for my wanting sex. In other words stabbing people made me hot and since he had no stomach for blood...”

His brows start for his hairline. “So every time you…” He makes a slashing motion. “You’d be secretly horny?”

“Not _every_ time.” She admits. “Only when it was a challenge.”

Eggsy isn’t stupid by any means and he picks up things other people might miss because he _listens_ , most likely learned it by not being born posh like so many around him. Oh posh people also listened in their own way but quite a few tended to not actually _hear_ anything. Or only heard what they wanted to hear. Eggsy though, Eggsy meets her eyes and for a moment they just stare at each other and it’s electric. It’s two people sharing the same thought for a brief second, for a tiny scrap of time and then he looks away and it’s over.

But the seed has been planted; it just needs a little nurturing.

That can wait though.

Taking her prosthetics out of their fancy Kingsman case, she smoothes light fingertips along the pointed blade and feels like she is whole once again. Someone—Merlin—has supplied her with a file so that she can sharpen them and for a minute she flashes back to doing so while talking to Valentine about bingo. Feels like a lifetime ago. It occurs to her that twice she’s had a near death experience and twice she’s come out of it a different person. The first time turned her into Gazelle and the second a, well she’s not too sure what she is. She’s not a Kingsman _agent_ and right off hand she can’t think of any Kingsman character she could christen herself as. She’d have to look into it when she had some free time.

“Semak is going to try to kill us. I hope he talks first.” She drags the file back and forth in a calming motion, the sound it makes against the metal loud and screeching. “They always talk.”

Eggsy glances to his watch. “Why would Valentine go after a gansta when he had world leaders on the hook? Doesn’t make much sense.”

Gazelle shrugs. _Scritch Scritch scritch._ “He wanted power players and Tasarov did have many men under him. Someone had to be around for the cleanup. Plus it’s just good business really. You need a few assholes on your team to keep the other assholes in line. It was supposed to be a utopia once everything was said and done.” And then she’s sighing. “Honestly I’m getting kind of tired talking about Valentine’s grand yet failed plan. It’s over. Better to focus on the future.”

Eggsy tugs a bit at his tie but doesn’t disrupt its lovely Windsor knot. “Far as I can tell our future is uncertain. Merlin thinks you’re gonna try to kill me on this mission or worse, and I don’t know what to think. After what I done to you it doesn’t make sense you’d wanna be in the same room with me.”

Figuring her blades are sharp enough, she removes the Kingsman prosthetics and pulls on her own, feeling the warm plastic fit snuggly into place. She’s up a second later and moving to perch on the arm of the chair in front of his. “I’m an adult and I don’t hold grudges, well, not against the right people. We fought and you won.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, eyes on her metal feet. “How the fuck you learn to fight like you do in those things?”

“Extensive training. My dancing background helped.” Smiling she gives them a wiggle. “And Valentine paid a great deal of money to have the best in their fields beat the living shit out of me until I was as good as they were. Or better.”

“So he groomed you.” He tilts his head to the side. “Got you when you were at your worst and shit.”

“I’d never thought of it that way but I suppose. I was ripe for it.” Slowly she tips back into the chair, legs dangling over the side. “Could be worse…I could be dead. Instead I’m in my second private jet with my new interim boss.”

“Merlin’s the boss ‘til we get a new Arthur. Hope he’s a damn sight better than the last one.” Eggsy grumbles. “Wouldn’t wanna have to kill another one. Wouldn’t wanna get kicked out when I just got back in either.”

“They’d be crazy to do that,” Gazelle says. “Especially since I’m here because you—the general you—needs the help.”

“But it happens. Chester King always looked at me like I was something found on the bottom of someone’s shoe. Didn’t matter that I worked my arse off or that I beat his dickhead sponsor Charlie. All he saw was me background and that I wasn’t born same as him. That I didn’t talk the same as him.”

Gazelle vaguely remembered Chester King but what had stood out about him was his snobbery because it was how they won him over. Snobbery was how they won a lot of people over. “I’d say let people underestimate you. Then it’s more fun when you take control.”

“That what you did?” Eggsy questions. “Cause the moment I saw you I knew you were dangerous as fuck. Had that look about you. Like you wanted to murder me and all.”

“At the time I did,” she drags her fingers along the soft carpet. “But you’re an anomaly. Most people look at me and all they see is a poor woman who lost her legs. Some assume military service—IED explosion—there is always a bit of pity. Then you get the assholes that think I’m easy pickings. Either way they don’t expect me to move the way I do. Be as lethal as I am.”

Eggsy smirks. “Right. Think Semak’s new crew will make the same mistake?”

She honestly couldn’t say. “Maybe. Depends on how chatty he’s been with them. I think he’ll have warned them to be on guard but they won’t listen. One look at me and whatever apprehension they’re feeling will melt away. And that’s when I’ll slit them from prick to nostril.”

Eggsy shifts and puts both feet on the floor. “You like killing?”

Gazelle really gives the question a bit of thought. “I like results. The people I have disposed of weren’t random or defenseless; they fought back. Some would consider it murder but it was a fight and I won. Winning in a battle like that is always a heady experience. You’d know…”

Exhaling, he rests his forearms on his thighs and leans forward. “Adrenaline kicks in yeah. Beating you felt good—like the mini boss you take out in a video game before the final big fight. Everything after that has been almost…easy. Like if I could kill _you_ then I could do anything.”

Chuckling, she gazes up at the metal ceiling. “And do anything you did. Even got the girl… _in the end_.”

He blinks. “How the hell do you know about that?”

How indeed. “Valentine had security cameras in all of the cells to make sure his guests didn’t harm themselves. I’ve seen the footage though I suppose Merlin has deleted it all by now.”

It’s charming how the apple of his cheeks go red even as he frowns. “So on top of all of the other shit you’re a pervert too?”

Laughing, she slowly turns her head to look at him. “More curious actually. I wanted to see if you fuck like you fight.”

“Verdict?”

“Inconclusive.”

“What? Anal too rich for your blood?”

“No I like anal sex just fine though I do some of my best work when I’m on top.”

Eggsy’s forehead scrunches into several lines. He opens his mouth to reply but whatever he was originally going to say, he thinks better of it. “We’ll be there soon,” he says instead. “You should…do whatever you gotta do.”

With a hum Gazelle rolls off her chair and opens the suitcase Merlin had given her and smiles at the contents inside; so he _had_ been paying attention. For Valentine or rather with Valentine she’d worn black because it was functional and also made her feel like a sleek snake whenever she struck someone. But now that she is on the good side she wants to shake it up a bit. When Merlin had offhandedly replied she’d need clothes she’d asked him for something and he’d came through though she doubted it was bulletproof. No bother, she could dodge them anyway.

Pulling her plain t-shirt over her head, she hears Eggsy shift behind her. “There’s a back room you know.”

She shrugs and unclips her bra, tossing both items onto the table. “Are you shy, Eggsy?” Eggsy murmurs _fuck you_ and she giggles, keeping her back to him because sometimes what you can’t see is sexier than what you can. And she’s always worn her scars with honor not contempt. “Didn’t think so. Now let’s see here.”

Inside the bag is a gray pantsuit, the pants themselves made out of a stretchy material rather than cotton and the jacket a bit shorter than usual. She likes the color because of the symbolism ironic as it may be. With a snort she fishes out the black bra and puts it on very amused to think of _Merlin_ packing underclothes for her. The blouse is plain white but dressy, silk, and she slides into it before sitting down to remove her prosthetics and wiggling out of her shorts. 

“Merlin thought of everything.” She holds up the pants so Eggsy can see how they are sheared off at the knee. “How considerate of him.”

Eggsy says nothing but watches her keep dressing with a sort of detached curiosity. When she is done she makes a slow twirl and gestures to herself. “Well? What do you think? Do I look professional?”

His lips quirk up into a cute little smile as he takes his glasses out of his pocket and puts them on. “Only just.”

With a gasp she places a hand over her heart feigning outrage. “Good enough though. Not like Semak will care what I’m wearing. Last time I saw him there were six thugs and I took off three of their hands. This time we should expect a…heftier welcome.” She brushes her hair before clipping on the ear cuff. “Remember to let me do the talking and just go along with whatever I say.”

Eggsy clips on his seatbelt when the plane starts to descend. “This ain’t exactly my first mission…but I get you. Just don’t get me punched in the face.”

Gazelle flutters her lashes at him, feeling more playful than she has in years. “A face that lovely? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Eggsy snorts but the dimple in his cheek is threatening to make an appearance. Gazelle fastens her own seatbelt and watches as the plane begins to descend.

+

Dimitri Semak and his ilk are lounging in a _gentlemen’s club_ while half naked women dance and serve them drinks. He’s an older man with salt and pepper gray hair and a face like a sad bulldog; been in the undercover game of smuggling, racketeering and murder for a long time but only now actually running things himself. Where Ari Tasarov was calculating and severely manipulative, Dimitri is more brute force in most matters. He is the type of man that would burn it all down without realizing he was still standing in the building as the smoking rafters fell.

A burly guard shows Gazelle and Eggsy in and although he pats Eggsy down Gazelle knows he’s missed the gun tucked in the inside of his jacket. Kingsman issued suit—of course it could outwit a fuckwit. That could be one of their taglines.

The minute Semak sees her his face lights up and he waves the girls away. “Gazelle!” He stands and opens his arms wide as if expecting a hug. “Welcome! Come come, we talk in private.” With a snap of his fingers his gang _politely_ usher her and Eggsy into a comfortable back room with leather seats and a long fancy wooden bar. “How long as it been?”

Gazelle sits down on the love seat and crosses her legs with a smile, not missing the way the other ten men all notice. “Too long I suppose. You seem to be doing very well for yourself.” Eggsy sits down beside her; a silent sentinel with a clenched jaw as sharp as glass.

Semak hums. “What happened to Ari was terrible and I grieved for him. But then figured someone had to be in control. Get things in order.” He flops down heavily on the couch and continues puffing on his cigar. “So…you said you’d explain why his head exploded.”

Gazelle twirls a piece of black hair around her finger. “It’s actually a pretty interesting story. Valentine had all of his ducks in a row but he never counted on people trying to stop him. An organization objected to the way he was going about saving the world so they stopped him. Had an exceptional hacker infiltrate his facility, hack the mainframe and reverse the pulse of the chips. Or to put it simply…kaboom.”

Semak eyes her. “And you did nothing to stop this person? Losing your touch?”

“I was incapacitated.” She pulls on the collar of her shirt, flashing the green tinge of her skin. “Nearly killed to be honest. If it hadn’t been for my good friend here I’d probably be dead or worse, rotting in some underground prison.”

“And who is this friend?” Semak inquires suspiciously. “How did he rescue you? And why?”

“Now now, I am entitled to a few secrets Semak. But I can say that he rescued me because we have things in common and he appreciates my skills.” She smiles at Eggsy. “And I appreciate his. It’s been prudent for us to stick together.”

“I see. What have you been doing since Valentine died?” Semak questions obviously fishing for information. “Surprising that you are not…involved in anything. You never struck me as the type to keep a low profile.”

Gazelle shrugs. “Just because I have been supposedly M.I.A doesn’t mean I haven’t been entertaining myself. It was germane to my curiosity to see what Valentine’s old _friends_ were doing. How many were still alive and how many were dead.”

Semak’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “I bet you thought I’d be dead, yes? That I wasn’t smart enough to have survived because I wasn’t _worthy_ of that chip. Ha! Well looks like being denied that stupid thing saved my life. My head—still intact.”

A harsh insult burns on her tongue but she swallows it down. “What you lacked in brains you’ve always made up for with grit in other areas. Ari knew this; it’s why you were his right hand man. Why you’ve inherited his legacy and started crafting it into your own. Not many men could do what you’ve done.”

Semak is pleased with her praise. “True. I have plans. Nothing as big as what Ari wanted with his population cull but they will make me a lot of money.” He sits down and lights up a cigar. “I’d offer you a stake but I don’t think you’d fit in around here.”

Gazelle arches a brow. “Fair enough. Not that I was here for a job interview anyway.”

Semak ignores her and says, “Maybe before you backed a loser I would have considered it but not now. Not when you’re damaged goods.”

“Damaged?” She muses. “Oh Dimitri if you’re trying to hurt my feelings you’ll have to do much better than that.”

“I do no such thing besides speak honesty. You had power because _Valentine_ had power. Without Valentine you are nothing but little girl playing dress up.” He flicks his wrist and a click sounds in Gazelle’s ear; the goon closest to her has pulled his gun and is aiming it directly at her temple.

Eggsy’s body shifts to react but she places a hand high up on his thigh, nails digging into the expensive material of his suit. Her face is completely passive and Eggsy goes stock still; his thigh solid like granite underneath her delicate hand. “It’s okay, baby. Semak is obviously still a bit sore because of what I did to Ari’s men the last time we met. If it makes you feel any better Dimitri I am here on my best behavior.”

Semak sneers at her. “I find that hard to believe. I…think you are here to muscle in on my territory. You don’t have any of your own and you assume mine is…how do they say? Easy pickings?”

Gazelle’s eye twitches as the air becomes thick with tension. You can almost taste it. “No I don’t want your gang or your business, Dimitri. Scout’s honor. I’m just curious about your contacts; if you actually have any.”

Semak takes a long drag off his cigar and blows the smoke all but in her face. “Oh I have some. Anyone who worked with Ari and didn’t lose their head is considering partnering with me or already has. Valentine’s failed experiment left a gaping hole to be filled and there is money to be made out there off the weak.”

“I see.”

“You don’t believe me? Don’t think I could gather their loyalty?”

“I am a bit skeptical, yes.”

“Silly bitch. I have names, many names! Many men pledged their loyalty to _me_!”

 _And there it is._ “I’ll bet you have all those names on file somewhere too, don’t you? Probably a flash drive or maybe…just on your computer so that you can look at them and feel important.” Semak’s face turns beet red and she laughs. “It’s in this room or on his person. How about we tear the place a part and find it? I bet there is a safe somewhere.”

Eggsy smirks. “Sounds good to me.”

Semak blurts out _kill them!_ like a petulant child and the asshole holding the gun to Gazelle’s head pulls back on the trigger. But it’s all slow motion to her as most fights are—well except for one—but before he realizes what has happened she’s already grabbed his arm and twisted it to an odd angle, snapping the bone with a loud crack. He screams and all hell breaks loose in the most delightful way possible.

Nine burly men with surly attitudes and 9mms all jump into action at once and really it’s what Gazelle has been waiting for. She shoves the one whose arm she broke into Semak as he tries to stand and ducks a shot from one with a handle bar mustache. Behind her a ginger aims for her back but his head explodes from a bullet from Eggsy’s gun, the body dropping with a low thud.

It’s just as she’d pictured it; they are a force of nature and it’s beautiful. She hacks and slashes as he shoots and pummels; the metallic smell of blood mixing almost perfectly with the heady odor of gunpowder. They work in an odd sort of sync, like puzzle pieces shifting and curving until they fit like they should. Until only three men are left—not counting a cowering Semak of course.

Gazelle makes short work of them, slitting two of their throats with one delicate spin and smiling as they gurgle and fall to the floor. The third throws himself back against the nearest wall and attempts to reload but it’s futile. She motions to Eggsy and he shoots him three times in the chest, making him slump down dead.

“I’d have gone for the face,” she teases.

Eggsy snorts. “Bit much.”

“Fuck both of you!” Semak yells as he—gun in hand—starts firing wildly like his eyes are closed.

Gazelle lashes out and a bullet heading for Eggsy’s shoulder bounces with a loud _ping_ off of her prosthetic. Yes his suit is bullet proof but it’s the principle of the thing. Or at least that is the flimsy excuse she uses when she stabs Semak in the mouth just as he’s opening it to scream. The point of her blade pops out the back of his head like it’s nothing but wet paper, and she has to wiggle a little to free himself once he’s dead.

They stand in the middle of a mini graveyard and she is tickled. “This went perfectly.” She turns and chuckles, folding her arms over her chest. “You can take your finger off your trigger.”

Eggsy appears a bit dubious. “Can I?”

“I did just deflect a bullet from hitting you,” Gazelle says coming to stand in front of him. Bold as you please she leans forward until the tip of his gun is pressing into her sternum. “It wouldn’t have killed you but that has to count for something.”

“Maybe,” he replies. His muscles are still coiled tight like a predator ready for anything. “This time.”

“Fair enough. I understand watching me work can be a bit…off putting a first. I’m sure you’ll get used to it.” Meeting his piercing eyes she touches the tip of her nose to his chin and inhales, pulling back with a grin. “You smell good like this. Your pulse is jumping like the wings of a humming bird. It feels good doesn’t it? To win? To have an entire room of dickheads curled around your feet… To know you’re superior.”

Eggsy doesn’t blink or answer but he doesn’t need to because she knows the truth. One day he’ll ask himself why killing is so easy for him—even if he shades it in terms of good versus evil—and if she is still around she’ll happily clue him in. He probably won’t like her explanation but he may _grow_ to like it and that’s what matters.

He might grow to like all _sorts_ of things where she is concerned if she plays her cards right.

Suddenly a voice clears its throat in her ear. She’d almost forgotten Merlin was listening in. “Yes Merlin?”

“The crowd outside heard the gunfire and the police have been called. You have ten minutes before they arrive,” Merlin explains. “I suggest you find the information and then get the hell out of there.”

She winks at Eggsy even as he frowns at her. “Yes sir. Let’s check behind the paintings first.”

+

They are on the plane and on their way back to Kingsman when Eggsy deigns to speak to her again. “All things considered…you did good. Doesn’t mean any of us trust you but you did what we asked. Merlin thinks Semak’s flash drive is gonna clue us in to even more fuck heads Guess we’ll have to take them out too.”

Gazelle turns her attention from the window to him. “Guess so. I look forward to hunting with you, Galahad. Maybe next time the evening will end with _even more_ …satisfaction.”

Eggsy’s brows dart towards his hairline and he chuckles. “Don’t hold your breath.”

She shrugs innocently and smiles. She is nothing if not tenacious. “We’ll see. So...” Twirling the flash drive over her knuckles, she grins. “What’s next?”

Fin


End file.
